


Delectatio

by figbash



Series: Nagron [28]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Flirting, Lust, M/M, Making Out, Missing Scene, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Stolen Moments, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figbash/pseuds/figbash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Delight"</p><p>Occurs after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3259736">Prurio.</a> Stolen moments between Agron and Nasir, leading up to the hallway scene in "Balance". </p><p>Meanwhile, Mira has an inkling of the extracurricular activities :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delectatio

For Mira it began not with the unexpected kiss at the temple, but the moment she watched Agron drift past them in the woods beyond Vesuvius. She had harbored her own suspicions, surely. But she knew with certainty as she watched Agron kneel in front of the slumped form of Nasir; there was something more between them. 

How strange it was to observe such a moment of tenderness from Agron, to feel as though she had intruded upon something secret and private as she watched him tilt Nasir's chin with care. In that moment, Mira came to see a greater depth that existed beneath Agron's surface, for perhaps the first time.

It is touching to observe Agron's devotion, even as Nasir lies unconscious in the room of the Medicus. Several days pass as Nasir's fate remains uncertain, but Mira frequently catches sight of Agron slipping into the room. She is in the hall when he emerges one morning. Their eyes meet, and Mira gives him a smile.

“He yet slumbers?” she asks him softly.

Agron nods. Mira can see he is clearly anxious, but he keeps the emotion from his face as best he can. Her heart melts a little.

“...You were speaking to him.”

Agron looks at her in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. He struggles to explain himself. “Naevia had made mention... if perhaps I would...”

“You are kind to make such efforts. I hold little doubt he will soon awaken,” offers Mira, in gentle reassurance. Agron gives another nod, and Mira smiles again as she watches him return to duties.

When at last Nasir wakes, there is a first kiss and temporary parting, and much sweetness. But upon their return from the arena, Mira finds that there is also entertainment in the little glimpses she is afforded. She cannot help but notice one night when Nasir follows Agron away from the courtyard and down the hall to the sleeping quarters. The hour is late when he reappears, although his composure bears no evidence of what has occurred during his absence. After that, Mira begins to see hints of other things, for neither Nasir nor Agron can entirely hide what they have gotten up to.

*     *     *

 

Agron turns down the hall towards the front of the temple. His walk is brisk, but then he spots Nasir as he passes the entry of the storeroom. All at once his urgency is gone, and he stops in his tracks, leaning in the doorway with a pleased smile. He takes a moment to let his eyes linger upon Nasir's body before he speaks.

“Are we to dine upon your efforts this evening?”

Nasir does not look up, engrossed in his search for some particular items. “...I shall lend aid.”

Agron comes to stand beside him. “I do not hold skill in such endeavors.”

“I am sure my skill stands little more than yours,” says Nasir, setting aside a container. “In both this and the ways of the sword, there is much I have yet to learn. I am grateful for the patience of my teachers.” 

Nasir turns to him with an amused smile, and it is like a tiny spark that sets a forest ablaze. Agron grabs him, his mouth covering Nasir's before he can speak another word.

*     *     *

 

Mira spots Agron as he steps out of the storeroom, oddly out of breath.

“Spartacus calls for you,” she says, narrowing her eyes as she looks up at his flushed face. “...Shall I tell him you will be a few moments?”

“No need, I shall go directly,” Agron says, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Then from the doorway emerges Nasir, also out of breath, looking quite startled to find Mira standing before him. He glances at Agron in confusion before addressing Mira.

“A-Apologies, I am too long delayed at retrieving what was needed,” Nasir says quickly.

Delighted, Mira's eyes go from Nasir's bee-stung lips to Agron's face, then back again. “...No worries.”

She watches them exchange a look full of secrets that she can only imagine. Agron nods to Mira before he continues down the hall. Out of the corner of her eye, Mira catches the tiny smile that flashes across Nasir's face, as well as the eyes he casts upon Agron's backside.

Mira turns to Nasir, whose cheeks seem flushed anew. “Allow me to lend aid.” 

Nasir nods, relieved. “Gratitude.”

*     *     *

 

Agron and Mira sit with Spartacus to discuss the new additions to their group. Mira is still undecided as to whether Agron's countrymen can be trusted, but she is willing to tolerate their presence for the time being. She glances at the one they call Saxa, wrestling and carousing with the men as though she is one of them. Mira harbors a hint of dislike for her in particular, but she then wonders if perhaps it is envy instead. Spartacus asks if the new rebels have begun to learn the common tongue, and Agron agrees to assist in expediting the effort. With that in mind, Mira warms to the idea of them a little more.

Agron's eyes dart away for half a moment, then light upon Nasir as he passes them on his way to the hallway. It is lovely how Nasir's eyes meet his, lingering for just a moment longer than they need to, how Agron's expression shifts almost imperceptibly in response. Mira bites her lip to hide her smile, and Spartacus circumnavigates their distraction as he continues with the discussion at hand. Before long their business has concluded, and Mira watches as Agron immediately slips away. She observes with vague dismay as Spartacus leaves to speak with some of the other rebels.

Naevia comes to sit next to her on the steps. “Where is Nasir? The time has come to redress wound.”

Mira perks up and grins. “I know where he is.”

“Where does he-” asks Naevia, but then she stops. “Ah.”

“Perhaps I should fetch him,” Mira muses, nudging her.

Naevia laughs. “You are eager to cause interruption?”

“I suppose it would be cruel trick, tempting as it is.”

“Indeed! I do not know who holds worse temper, Agron or Crixus!”

“Nasir is as sheath. I am sure he has calmed Agron a bit.” Mira smiles at her. “I might say the same for you, with Crixus.”

“I doubt there is any worldly thing that could do so,” Naevia sighs in resignation, shaking her head.

 

*     *     *

 

Agron finds that his room contains a most pleasing surprise when he returns to it. Nasir leans against the wall with a grin.

“You appear in chamber as though I have conjured you.” Agron embraces him with eager hands.

Nasir rests his cheek against Agron's chest. “...I have longed for your touch.”

“You long for my _tongue,_ ” says Agron, standing back and admiring him with a roving gaze.

Nasir's hands slide over Agron's waist, mapping muscle with his fingers, pulling Agron towards him again. He arches a playful brow. “Show me again its talents.”

“I shall lend body, if your tongue requires practice,” Agron responds with humor, before leaning in for a kiss.

“What I require is your hands upon me,” murmurs Nasir, rolling his hips against Agron's thigh, half-hard and insistent. “...And tongue upon cock.”

“Hmm.” Agron gives Nasir's arousal a teasing caress. “Do you think it wise to indulge such wanton lust?”

Nasir licks his lips and nods in the affirmative. Agron bends to his neck, covering the skin in kisses and bites. 

“But I mustn't,” continues Agron, pulling away with a sly smile, though his breathing betrays his desire. For a few torturesome moments they watch each other, then Nasir leans forward.

Nasir presses soft hands to Agron's chest, closing his eyes to enjoy the carved shapes of it beneath his touch. He places a slow, delicate kiss to a pectoral, glancing up at Agron with mischievous eyes. Nasir's lips brush feather-light under Agron's collar bone, until he is gratified by an answering shiver of pleasure.

Nasir looks up at Agron again with a knowing smile. “Take me in mouth,” he tells him in a low voice. “Swallow me up.”

Agron sinks to his knees at the words, as though he cannot resist obeying them, once uttered. He releases a sigh that nearly becomes a moan as his lips trace the skin of Nasir's stomach. His right hand holds Nasir's hip in an iron grasp as his left pulls roughly at the wool that conceals him. Agron's lust settles heavily upon him as he tastes Nasir again, his eyes slipping shut as his mouth takes him in. He loves how quickly Nasir becomes lost in his pleasure, fingers at the back of Agron's head, breathing Agron's name perhaps without even being aware. The sound of it makes Agron want to throw him down and spread him open, to push their bodies into wild, hedonistic abandonment until they surrender to exhaustion. 

Agron lets Nasir slip even deeper into his throat, his nose pressing into Nasir's skin and the dark, heated scent of him. Agron savors all of it, becoming absorbed in his own pleasure, hands roaming over the muscles of Nasir's lower back and the firm curve of his ass. The aching desire to delve into Nasir's body nearly drives him mad, but then Nasir's fingers tighten in Agron's hair, and another taste of him is hot upon Agron's tongue. Agron swallows, pulling away to rest his cheek against Nasir's pelvis, listening to his breathing and the strong, quickened thrum of his pulse. Nasir cradles Agron's face with trembling fingers before his voice returns to him.

“...Ah, you have brought remembrance of this bewitchment,” whispers Nasir with a hazy smile.

Agron pinches his thigh. “Such a mouth upon you. I should like to see it put to similar use.”

Nasir's smile grows. “...Kiss me.”

Agron rises, leaning over Nasir with a hand on the wall behind them. “Am I such obedient pet?” he asks, before his lips oblige him.

“You are warrior,” breathes Nasir. “And you are mine.”

*     *     *

 

Mira is uneasy when she looks upon Spartacus' face. The appearance of Ilithyia is a bad omen, as though the gods are mocking them with promise of vengeance, only to hold it just out of reach. Mira well remembers when first she laid eyes upon the hateful woman, looking with disdain upon the House of Batiatus, and all those who dwelled within it. How Mira's heart fills with cold pleasure to see Ilithyia now, with clothing and hair disheveled, whimpering pathetically as she stumbles along the forest path. Mira wants to crush her until she is pulp underfoot, until her blond curls are as red as Lucretia's. 

Mira is surprised that Spartacus does not take Ilithyia's life upon their return to the temple. When he orders her to stand guard with Nasir, Mira knows what she must do. She must help nudge fate just a little, laying game pieces in place so that they will fall just as she wants them to. She wonders if Nasir would grant her forgiveness. She is more certain of Agron.

“Would she not stand better guarded if _Agron_ were to accompany Nasir, in place of me?” Mira asks Spartacus, as though the thought has just occurred to her. 

*     *     *

 

“You think it cruel, because she is with child?” Agron asks Nasir, after they have watched Lucius leave Ilithyia's side.

“It shall always stand cruel to remove choice from hand,” Nasir asserts with a troubled frown.

“As she removed from Acer's.”

Nasir sighs. “Both points stand true.”

“What would you have us do, then?”

Nasir's response is both immediate and resolute. “Fly far from suffocating grasp of Rome, never to return.”

“I fear you hold regret in joining our cause,” Agron says with concern.

“I lament necessity of it. But I do not hold regret in the least.” Nasir tilts his head, adding softly, “For somewhere amongst carnage of rebellion... I have found one to hold my heart.”

Agron smiles, more than pleased. “How fortunate you are, to capture such a prize.”

“I have drawn him to me with desirous gaze and promising smile.” Nasir looks up at him. “...He remains by my side, though I have yet to fulfill promise.”

“Do you think I am of such single mind?” Agron asks with amusement. “I aim for much more than pleasures of flesh.”

Nasir watches his face. “Yet absence of them has made for fitful slumber, has it not?”

“You speak of yourself as well?” Agron leans in, looking him over. “I imagine hands have wandered upon body, in dark of night.”

“It was but pale shadow of what I now seek.” Nasir's words are the only invitation that is needed, before Agron again finds himself in thrall to him. In an instant Agron feels the full force of what has built up over the past weeks, the anticipation of at last satiating the craving that has intensified from trickle to flood.

Agron's arms wind tightly around Nasir, pulling him close, bending until their mouths meet. They lay countless kisses upon each other, impatient, wet and fevered, though it only seems to augment their hunger. Agron shoves Nasir back against the wall, and they continue their mutual assault, lost to the world. Suddenly Nasir pushes him away.

“We must wait, til Spartacus relieves us of charge.”

Agron grins, his hand planted on the wall above Nasir's shoulder. “Time passes too slowly.”

Nasir grabs his neck.“We must be quick, then,” he manages to say, before they are at each other again. 

With delight Agron feels Nasir's hand trail down the thick leather strap that crosses his chest. Nasir's touch lingers a moment before it dips to caress him for the first time. Agron pulls back to exhale a ragged breath, and they grin at each other like fellow conspirators. Nasir's hand resumes its ministrations until Mira's voice brings them to an abrupt halt.

“This is how you stand guard?”

*     *     *

 

Mira smiles serenely, allowing Agron and Nasir several long moments as they fumble unsuccessfully for words. It is quite a treat to see her plan enacted so effectively, even more so because of the young, giddy love that is on display before her. She wonders idly what might have happened, had she not caused interruption. 

As she sends them off to their bed, a tiny part of Mira holds regret for such missed opportunity.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Delectatio" gets translated as delight, pleasure, enjoyment, amusement... I thought all of those fit really well with this "Let's constantly make out like teenagers" phase that I wanted to depict in this story.
> 
> -Did Nasir issue a **Pillow Princess Booty Call** back there, mid-story? I think he did, I think he did :P  
>  -Nasir is taking both Home Economics and Swordfighting 101 for a well-rounded University education. He will graduate before the beginning of WOTD with a degree in BAMF (Bad Ass Motherfuckery)
> 
>  
> 
> You must forgive me for fudging Mira's actions a bit. I was playing out a "what if" scenario, but I know she hatches her plan for a Ilithyia differently in the actual series.
> 
> I guess these stories became a mini trilogy of Agron and Nasir's courtship... Principium, Prurio, Delectatio. Hope you enjoyed them :)
> 
>  
> 
> [Tertia Vigilia Noctis](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2151708) follows this one.


End file.
